EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter three

 

CHAPTER THREE

Ayre quickly glanced at Ayzu. His brother nodded and they both knelt on the strip of rice. Ayre was determined not to show how uncomfortable his knees felt. Aybo, naturally, took offence upon catching the sight of his stoic face, interpreting it in his own twisted way.

“Nong Ayre,” he snapped, “I would strongly advise you to control that arrogant facial expression of yours or I will change my mind about the leniency of your punishment. You should know that I was contemplating flogging you for your disgraceful conduct in the training arena. However, I’ve changed my mind – mainly because I need you intact.”

“What do you need him for?” asked Ayzu.

“Patience, Ayzu, patience,” chided Aybo.

Ayre couldn’t believe his ears. He was horrified that his brother had actually considered flogging as an appropriate punishment for him. Flogging was a humiliating punishment that was usually conducted in public and usually bestowed upon those dragons who had been caught doing something truly despicable. Ayre was sure that shedding a few tears over one’s dying father didn’t fall into that category.

As pain shot through his knees and struck his bones, Ayre tried to shift slightly to change his position, so that he could relieve the pressure on his burning kneecaps – only to realise that he couldn’t move an inch. His head shot upwards and he stared in horror at his eldest brother, a short aborted sound of distress escaping his lips before he could stop himself.

“Aybo, what have you done?” asked Ayzu wearily. Ayre didn’t know whether he had discovered that he couldn’t move either or whether he simply knew from his reaction that Aybo was to blame.

Aybo chuckled. “My dear brother,” he said as nastily as before, “a punishment wouldn’t be so memorable or wouldn’t be considered a proper punishment if you could make yourself comfortable during it. I simply put a spell on your knees to keep them glued to the floor of the cave until I’m done talking.”

Ayre was seething. He clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth. Yet he knew better than to talk back: with Aybo’s cruel streak running unchecked it would only get him and Ayzu in more trouble and he didn’t want Ayzu to suffer even more because of him.

He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath, reaching deep within himself for a cool touch of calm. But just as he was about to breathe out, having envisioned himself submerged underwater, two short jets of fire burst from his nostrils, telling everyone exactly how furious he was. Ayre’s eyes snapped open, all colour draining from his face. He had never lost control like that before!

If the cave they were in had an echo it would be now ringing with Khun Pring’s mocking laughter. He was laughing so hard he rolled off the pillow he’d been reclining on and ended up sprawled on the floor. Ayre’s only consolation was that such a humiliating occurrence as losing control over one’s flame and its humiliating consequences numbed him to other painful sensations.

“Aybo, I was under the impression that you brought us here on a matter of some urgency,” said Ayzu in a dignified manner. He had spared a single disapproving glance at Ayre before sighing and shaking his head.

Ayre hung his head. 

“Yes, I did,” replied Aybo. “Yet our little brother’s display has been quite entertaining. I got distracted. You know,” he added as though he had just thought of something, “I sometimes wonder what would have happened if our father hadn’t put a stop to Ayre’s desire to become a dancer – ”

His words were interrupted by Khun Pring’s high-pitched giggle.

Ayre’s whole body began to shake. It was a gruesome and painful memory that had forever marred his relationship with his father. He never stopped loving or respecting him after what he had done, but something corrosive had settled in his heart that had never healed. It had been the only time that his father punished him but his punishment had been so severe that he couldn’t move without Ayzu’s help for weeks.

Ayre had always loved dancing, but in their society dancing – a sensual but lowly form of entertainment – wasn’t considered a proper pastime for a dragon prince. He was only ever allowed to dance during his own mating dance that looked more like a battle than a dance. When his father caught him in the act, his wrath was quick and terrible…

“Aybo!” hissed Ayzu.

Aybo dismissed his middle brother’s warning tone with a raised hand – then pointed a finger in the centre of Ayre’s bowed head.

“You see – even back then – I knew that he wasn’t good enough to be a dragon warrior.”

Ayzu tried to attract Aybo’s attention again but Aybo wasn’t done grinding Ayre into dust yet.

“Look at his hair,” he went on with a sneer. “Doesn’t your lot have to wear the same hairstyle?” he asked, pointing at Ayzu’s short dark hair closely cropped around his head so that it resembled a mushroom top. Ayre’s short dark hair, on the other hand, was streaked with reddish stripes and deliberately swept back as though he was flying through the wind with two rather fancy curls falling across his forehead.

“There is no rule that says so nor is there any particular hairstyle that we have to wear,” replied Ayzu calmly. “It is true that most dragon warriors wear the same hairstyle but that is nothing more than a habit. Ayre has broken no rules.”

Aybo snorted. “You are too soft with him. He has deliberately chosen to wear a different hairstyle just so that he could stand out among his fellow warriors.”

“Aybo,” said Ayzu, “did you really bring us here to talk about Ayre’s hairstyle?”

 “No,” replied Aybo; his brutish face had twisted into a grimace of distaste. “But his hairstyle is as offensive as the rest of him.”

Khun Pring got to his feet and placed his arms around Aybo’s shoulders before whispering something in his ear. The other two dragons couldn’t hear his words but they made Aybo burst out laughing. Pleased with himself, Khun Pring returned to reclining on his many pillows, enjoying his favourite fruits, while watching Ayre’s and Ayzu’s growing discomfort.

“There are two matters that I wish to discuss with you,” he finally said once he had stopped laughing. “First of all, Ayzu, I believe the time has come for you to get mated.”

“Mated?” spluttered Ayzu while Ayre mouthed the word as though he had never heard it before.

“I don’t know why you look so surprised, Ayzu. A lot of dragons choose to mate at your age. I don’t know why you keep dawdling.”

“I just don’t have anyone in mind.”

“Good,” replied Aybo. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plans.”

“My plans?” Ayzu frowned. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’ve already chosen a perfect mate for you, so you don’t have to worry about it. All you have to do now is start preparing for the courtship process.”

“You have chosen a mate for me?” repeated Ayzu in disbelief. “Why would you do that?”

Aybo raised one thick eyebrow.

“It is my right to do so as the head of the clan.”

“You have chosen your own mate,” pointed out Ayzu. “Why should you choose one for me?”

“I have made an excellent choice once,” replied Aybo, making Khun Pring preen beside him like a peacock. “You can trust me to choose the right one for you as well.”

“I want to choose for myself,” said Ayzu firmly. “We mate for life and we live long. I don’t want to find myself mated to someone I might never like – or love.”

Aybo looked amused, which somehow made his face look even more brutish.

“Love?” he echoed mockingly. “That’s why I should be the one to choose a mate for you, Ayzu. You’re thinking like a human – I’m thinking like the future dragon lord. We need to form an alliance with the right clan – a powerful clan whose position and resources will help to reinforce our own standing.”

Ayre’s knees felt as though someone was poking them with a burning bamboo stick but he knew better than to interrupt his eldest brother’s speech. He couldn’t understand what he was getting at. Was something threatening their standing?

“What are you talking about?” asked Ayzu, sounding as bewildered as Ayre felt.

“I’m talking about the future of our realm,” replied Aybo. “Our father is dying. Even now the heads of other dragon clans are gathered around his rotting flesh, mourning his impending departure, recollecting his many victories and his greatest achievements.” Aybo snorted. “Naturally, none will admit that his greatest achievement is also his greatest failure.”

Ayre jerked his head upwards. Ayzu had gone rigid beside him.

“Yes, I’m talking about the so-called “era of peace” that our esteemed father established after the Great Cave Massacre.” His cold voice was filled with disdain. “Personally, I deeply despise his solution to go into hiding and to erase the memory of our existence from people’s minds and history.”

“How can you say that?” croaked Ayzu in disbelief. “Father preserved our race and ensured its continuing survival in a land of peace and harmony! He removed us from humans who only ever wanted our magic and treasure and made sure that they posed no threat to our existence!”

“He turned the greatest race on earth into cowards!” bellowed Aybo, jumping to his feet. “We live in obscurity and stagnation, cowering behind a magically constructed mountain that is, in fact, a mass graveyard of every single dragon who was slaughtered during the massacre, while humans continue to live and prosper on the other side, pilfering our caves and stealing our treasure!”

“You don’t know that,” said Ayzu quietly, shaking his head. 

“I know enough about humans to know what they are capable of!”

“Aybo, what is it exactly that you are planning?” asked Ayzu cautiously.

Ayre could feel a strong wave of fear coming from him, which both stunned him and told him that Ayzu already knew the answer to his question but needed Aybo to confirm his worst suspicions.

“I intend to put a stop to our pitiful existence,” declared Aybo, taking his seat once again and letting Khun Pring’s touch on his hand restore his composure. “I am going to remind humans whose bounty they have been living upon all these centuries. I will make them pay for every drop of dragon blood they have ever spilled and every gemstone they have ever stolen.”

Ayre was horrified.

“In other words, you mean to ruin everything that our father has created,” concluded Ayzu with a heavy sigh. “Do you care for anything other than your coffers?”

“Watch your mouth!” snapped Aybo. “I am not the only one among our people who believes that our father should have destroyed every single human responsible for the massacre! Now we finally have the chance to set things right.”

Ayzu pointed his chin in the direction of Khun Pring’s golden-attired form. “I see that even your mate’s great wealth hasn’t been enough to satisfy you.”

Aybo clucked his tongue. “You are mistaken if you think that this is about my desire to live like a dragon lord is supposed to live. It is about our heritage and justice. We will take back what is ours – we will rip it out of humans’ dead hands like they once ripped out our hearts from our frozen chests – and your future mate’s superior military prowess and highly-trained dragon warriors will help us to do that.”

Aybo paused. In the silence that didn’t promise anything good, Ayre’s heart began to beat fast in his chest. He tried to guess which clan his brother was talking about, but more than half of their clans trained dragon warriors, so it was impossible to tell.

He glanced sideways at Ayzu and noticed a muscle jumping in his jaw. Ayre wondered if he had figured it out. From what he could tell, Ayzu looked livid. Then something clicked in Ayre’s brain and his eyes widened. There was only one dragon warrior who could make Ayzu lose his cool.

Ayre looked back at his eldest brother.

Aybo’s thick lips spread into a malicious grin.

“Your mate will be arriving shortly,” he said. “Ah, yes, you probably want to know his name. Ayzu, I believe you remember P’Forge?”

Ayre gasped – but no one heard him.

Ayzu’s roar had filled the cave while the force of his fury destroyed Aybo’s spell.

TO BE CONTINUED...

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter two

CHAPTER TWO

“And you call yourselves dragon warriors?” continued the voice, now even colder and meaner than before. “You two are pathetic. I don’t know why your brother puts up with your nonsense.”

Ayre bowed his head, placed his hands behind his back, and slowly turned around. He couldn’t ignore his eldest brother’s mate no matter how much he wanted to evaporate him from existence every time he opened his mouth.

Instead, he glared at his fancy high-heeled golden buckled shoes that looked very different from his own simple scarlet boots made from soft leather with a curved nose that made them quite bouncy when he fought on the ground or scaled the rocks.

“Khun Pring,” said his brother politely. “You so rarely grace us with your presence in the training arena that it is always an unexpected pleasure to see you here.”

He had come to stand right next to Ayre, his head bowed and his hands placed behind his back just like Ayre’s in deference to Khun Pring’s higher position both within their family and their kingdom.

Their shoulders were pressed together. Ayre closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, absorbing his brother’s soothing magic. His brother rarely lost his temper and always bore Khun Pring’s mockery with unwavering composure.

“Obviously I have much more important things to do than waste my time in the training arena,” replied Khun Pring so obnoxiously that Ayre ground his teeth together. It was impossible to believe that anyone could be more arrogant than his eldest brother but his mate might have actually surpassed him.

“Of course. I understand,” replied his brother humbly. His shoulder twitched slightly and Ayre wondered if he was trying not to laugh in the other man’s face.

“Those of us in the higher recesses of power,” continued Khun Pring, “have our hands full with great matters of the realm.”

Ayre bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from snorting at that. He knew that all they did was lounge on soft pillows, chew betel leaves, and gossip over a spittoon.

“Could it be that one such great matter has brought you here today?” inquired Ayre’s brother in a polite manner as he finally straightened his back.

Ayre followed his suit a few seconds later – and wished he hadn’t. His eyes began to water at the sight of so many golden ornaments that decorated Khun Pring’s person. They almost completely obscured the scarlet colour of the fire dragon clan he now belonged to and gave him a strong resemblance to a golden statue.

His long black hair was woven into a single braid that was twisted and pulled upwards and held in place on the top of his head by several thick golden circlets. There was a large golden ring in his nose and a whole array of golden earrings of different shapes and sizes in his ears, not to mention arm-rings and anklets.

Ayre never thought about having a mate before – he was still too young to be even allowed a peek into The Great Dragon Book of Mating – but he suddenly wished he had one at the moment, so that he could laugh with him about it through a mind bond all mates shared.

Khun Pring gave them both a lofty look.

“Your brother wishes to see you in the Silent Cave,” he said.

“Now?” asked Ayre before he could stop himself; from the corner of his eye he could see his brother’s minutest head shake, but it was too late to take his question back.

“Well, what do you think, Nong Ayre?” snapped Khun Pring so savagely that all his golden trinkets began to jingle in disapproval. “Would I be standing here now if he wished to see you tomorrow?”

His words were as vicious as a whip. Ayre bowed his head, his cheeks burning with humiliation.

“Let us go then,” said his brother in a pacifying manner. “If Khun Pring himself was asked to give us the message, then the matter must be truly urgent.”

Khun Pring huffed and clapped his hands together. Six young men in short tunics rushed towards him. Four of them were carrying a large scarlet pillow with swinging golden tassels on two long bamboo poles. Their arms shook as they lowered the pillow for him to sit on. Ayre had the distinct impression that they were shaking with fear more than with the effort of carrying him. Two more were holding large palm-leaved fans above his head.

Ayre narrowed his eyes and balled his hands into fists. If only his father was still in his right mind, he would never allow this. He had raised them to be humble and to treat everyone with respect – even if they belonged to lower dragon clans. But ever since he had lost his ability to turn back into his human form, their eldest brother was getting more and more brazen and his mate was using every chance to show and exploit his high status.

“Ayre, stop glaring.”

His brother reappeared next to him and nudged him with his shoulder.

“That’s not right,” muttered Ayre, looking back at him.

“No, it’s not,” agreed Ayzu. “But glaring at him or provoking him is not an option. I hope you understand that. I’m afraid we must prepare ourselves for many more changes now that our father…” He broke off when Ayre’s face crumpled. His own facial expression had become stern. “Your temper and your emotions are out of control. Why? Have you not been meditating?”

“I…”

“Tomorrow you will spend the whole day disciplining yourself.”

Ayre hung his head.

“Yes, Phi.”

“Let’s go.”

They followed Khun Pring’s moving pillow through a barren landscape surrounded by rocks under the scorching sun towards the nearest cave entrance, their steps soft and silent on the sand.

“Why does he want to meet us in the Silent Cave?” whispered Ayre, even though they were keeping just enough distance between themselves and Khun Pring’s entourage so as not to be overheard. Unlike other caves the Silent Cave had no echo and could be used for the most secret of meetings and discussions.

“We will soon find out,” replied Ayzu calmly.

Ayre admired his brother’s cool but sometimes it was very annoying. Ayzu smiled as though he knew exactly what he was thinking about.

“There is no use wasting our time guessing when our brother will be only too happy to tell us.” He lowered his voice. “You know how much he loves to hear the sound of his own voice.”

Ayre’s lips twitched.

“Careful!”

Khun Pring’s warning cry made Ayre jump. For a split second it appeared as though he had heard his brother’s words and Ayre could only imagine the reprimand that would follow. Then – 

“Look where you’re going, imbecile! Do you want me to fall?”

As the young men carrying the bamboo poles with the pillow began to bend over and apologise, Khun Pring snatched one of the palm-leaved fans that was used to shield him from the glare of the sun and began to smack one of his attendees with it.

Ayre stopped dead in his tracks, too shocked to speak. Fury, instant and uncontrollable, rose inside him and, without thinking what he was doing or what the repercussions would be, he moved forward, fully intending to take the fan away from Khun Pring and to smack him with it instead.

A strong hand grabbing his upper-arm in a vice-like grip stopped him just in time.

“You don’t want to do that!” hissed his brother in his ear.

“Yes, I do!” argued Ayre, hissing back, dropping formalities in his fury and indignation.

“You know what I mean!” replied Ayzu. “You don’t want to bring painful punishment upon your head for harming your brother’s mate. Seriously, Ayre, haven’t you been practising discipline at all? Do I have to supervise your training as though you were a know-nothing novice?”

His eyes still fixed on the abhorrent scene before him, Ayre ignored his brother’s reprimand and concentrated on the problem at hand.

“I don’t care. This is wrong and it must be stopped. Besides, Aybo hates me anyway,” he gritted out.

“So you want him to hate you even more?”

Ayzu didn’t even try to deny that their eldest brother hated Ayre’s guts. It was, after all, a well-known fact.

Their argument was interrupted by Khun Pring’s piercing shriek.

“A splinter! A splinter!” He yelled and dropped the fan as though it was a poisonous snake and he was a mere human. “Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!”

The same attendee he had been smacking just a second before dropped down on his knees and rushed to help. He took Khun Pring’s hand in his as carefully as though he was dealing with a baby dragon who hadn’t learned to control the power of his flames yet and latched his lips to his palm, sucking out the splinter that got stuck there.

Ayre looked at the scene in disbelief. It was inconceivable that anyone should be so helpless with magic at their disposal. A simple one-motion spell would have been enough to get rid of that splinter and yet the dragon prince’s mate had chosen to make such a fuss over it. If only his father knew how his eldest son allowed his mate to dishonour his doctrine… Ayre’s eyes began to sting again. Stupid tears. Ayzu was right. He had to devote more time to self-discipline – or else permanently seal his tear ducts shut. He wondered if there was a spell for that.

Khun Pring’s procession had finally resumed its journey. Ayre and Ayzu followed behind, maintaining their distance and silence. They approached the mouth of the cave and continued along a series of spacious tunnels carved out inside the mountain whose rough walls were shimmering with the soft glow of lanthorn flies. As soon as they came to the Silent Cave, Khun Pring alighted and shooed his attendees away. Once they were out of earshot, he walked inside, though not before sneering at the two younger brothers.

Ayre and Ayzu exchanged bewildered looks and entered the inner cavern. Ayre followed a few steps behind Ayzu and walked right into him when the latter had come to an abrupt stop.

“Did someone spill rice?” he heard him ask.

Ayre looked down and noticed that the floor of the cave right in front of them was sprinkled with small white granules that formed a thick strip whose position looked quite deliberate.

Ayre frowned.

“Don’t tell me that you called us here to pick it up,” continued his brother in a joking manner. Though he would never joke with their eldest brother’s mate he would sometimes joke with their eldest brother, even though Ayre was convinced that humour wasn’t something Aybo understood.

“Ayzu, you are my brothers – not my servants,” replied Aybo. “That being said,” he continued in a voice that was so cold it would have pierced even dragonhide, “you are also my dragon warriors and I expect you to behave as such. I simply cannot allow any lapse in discipline or judgement among your lot.”

Ayre lifted his gaze and glared at his eldest brother. Aybo was sitting cross-legged dressed in scarlet and gold among brightly-coloured pillows and lotus-shaped bowls filled with nuts and fruit. He had a broad face that looked quite brutish and his mean dark eyes were so narrow they looked like two horizontal slits.

“Pring has told me about what happened during the training.”

“Ah.”

He must have spilled it all through their bond on their way. Ayre turned his glare at his brother’s mate who was currently lounging among the pillows, picking his way through fruits with an extremely smug look on his face. It would have been a very pretty face if it wasn’t permanently possessed by malicious intent.

“He also pointed out that you failed to punish the warrior responsible for his squadron’s failure simply because he happens to be your younger brother. I cannot allow for such practices to persist. I have things I wish to discuss with you, so I decided to combine our discussion and your punishment.”

Aybo bared his teeth and waved a hand in the direction of rice.

“Kneel.”

CHAPTER ONE

EVEN DRAGONS DIE, chapter one

PART I: EVEN DRAGONS DIE

CHAPTER ONE

A vicious cut along his side made his whole body jerk sideways. The cut was so mean-spirited that a lower row of his scales was ripped off, exposing his flesh to other claws, while tearing a pain-filled roar from his throat. Though the wound would heal quickly and the scales would grow back, the pain was so sudden and strong it was enough to disorient him.

He lost focus again just as another long scaled body crashed into him, pushing him further off course. He looked around and panicked when he realised that he was surrounded by his enemies and that his squadron was nowhere in sight. Where were they? He had to get back to them. He was their leader and it was his duty to protect them.

He pressed his wings to his sides and streaked forward at breakneck speed, meaning to create a diversion. Fuelled by pain and anger, he wanted to break his opponents’ formation, skewering as many of them as he could with his horns and claws, ripping into their flesh and taking some of their scales for trophies. A loud roar brought everything to a sudden halt. The enemy ranks broke apart and swooped down towards the ground before he had time to stop himself from barrelling into them, leaving him floundering in the air like a stunned fish. A burst of mocking laughter stung worse than his wound.

“Ayre, get down here! NOW!”

His brother’s furious voice sent a jolt of apprehension through every single vertebrae in his dragon body. He rarely used such a tone of voice with him, which told Ayre that he was in serious trouble. He looked down. All the other dragons had already shifted into their human form and stood at attention in the training arena below, their heads bowed and their palms pressed together before them in show of respect.

Ayre shifted into his human form just before his leather-clad feet touched the ground. His wound didn’t bother him in his human form but he knew that turning back into a dragon would be a nightmare. Though, judging by the glowering look on his brother’s face, that was the least of his worries.

He quickly lowered his eyes (so that it didn’t appear as though he was challenging his elder), placed his hands on the embroidered girdle wrapped around his slim waist, which kept his long red and gold tunic from billowing, and marched towards his designated station in the last row.

Despite being the third son of the Dragon King he was treated as any other warrior-in-training and as he was one of the youngest dragons in existence his place was at the very back with the other young dragons. They belonged to the same squadron and today he let them down.

If it had been a real battle, he would have been dead – or captured. Ayre decided that considering who he was, his capture was much more likely. Not that there was any real danger of that happening, of course. For centuries they lived in peace, gained and maintained by his father, and there was no one who could harm them now that people had forgotten about their existence.

His early success in the training arena had established his reputation as the best young dragon warrior in ages and he knew that there were those who were glad to witness his failure today. Ayre, though, was more worried about making his brother and his squadron look bad. He had an explanation for what had happened but he wasn’t sure that it was good enough to justify his abysmal performance.

The training arena was situated in an enormous canyon surrounded by craggy rocks that they learned to scale in their human form before they were allowed to shift and fly. It was divided into different sections, each under the curved roof of a pavilion made of bamboo, each dedicated to a different kind of training that each dragon warrior had to practise every day. From time to time they would take part in ‘battles’ in order to show their skills and to gain distinction.

The other dragons were supposed to keep their gaze on the ground until his brother gave them permission to look up – yet as he walked towards them he could feel many eyes on him. He wanted to see who was looking at him but he never once lifted his head. Finally, he took his place in the very last row and pressed the palms of his hands before him. His heart was thundering in his chest so loudly he barely heard his brother praising those who had distinguished themselves today and providing instruction for those who had made mistakes before dismissing them.

“You can proceed with your individual training now,” he said in his calm and confident voice, even though he was much younger than some of the warriors in the first three rows. “Nong Ayre, please remain behind.”

He didn’t sound angry anymore, but it didn’t mean anything. The other dragons bowed with their palms still pressed before them, their backs as straight as wooden planks, before dispersing across the training area, their red and gold tunics rippling in their wake. Ayre maintained his posture, his eyes fixed on the arid soil before him. He could feel the glare of the sun on the top of his head and was glad that their tunics bore charms which made them cool and light.

“Ayre.”

Ayre placed his hands behind his back and lifted his eyes.

Looking at his brother was like looking at a slightly older and broader version of himself. They shared the same features: honey-coloured skin, short black hair, dark slanted eyes, thick winged eyebrows, full lips, and sharp cheekbones. But whereas his older brother was considered handsome, Ayre was invariably described as beautiful. Ayre knew that it was because his bone structure was more delicate than that of his brother’s, but what stood out the most was a perfectly round mole on his left cheek, which his brother didn’t have and which set them apart. Their eldest brother never failed to point out that Ayre was too beautiful and too delicate to be a dragon-warrior and relentlessly mocked his ambition to become as great as his favourite second brother.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his lower lip wobbling slightly.

“I want to know what happened,” hissed his brother. “I want to know why you put your squadron in danger.”

Ayre hung his head. He wished they could talk in a more private place. He could once again feel the others staring. He could hear them whispering. It had never happened before. Some were triumphant. Others merely curious. His own squadron sympathetic. He knew they would not hold it against him, because they knew him well, and he swore to work hard to make it up to them. He would never let them down again. He clutched his arms behind his back as he would theirs.

“Well?” demanded his brother.

“I was thinking of father,” whispered Ayre as a shudder passed through his whole body and tears that had caused him to lose his focus during the battle misted his eyes again. “I just saw him lying there… unable to shift or even move… dying…”

Tears rolled down his cheeks, though he fought hard to stop them. He could once again see their father in his dragon form lying in a cave whose walls were plastered with lanthorn flies among lotus and jasmine flowers whose scent barely covered the stench of his decay, his tarnished scales parting company with his rotting flesh.

“I’m sorry, Phi.”

“Ayre…”

His brother’s voice softened. He placed his hands on his shoulders and brought their foreheads together.

“Even dragons die,” he said quietly. “Father is one of the oldest dragons in living memory. He has lived for many centuries. But I know how hard it must be for you. I am also much aggrieved. Yet his time has come. You have to let him go.” 

Ayre nodded. “I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He pressed his palms together and bowed his head. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right. We so rarely grieve loss that when it happens it is too hard to deal with. And you are still so young. You have never witnessed the passing of one of our kind before. I’m afraid I haven’t prepared you for that. I have been neglectful of your education in this crucial respect. It is my fault.”

Ayre’s face twisted with distress.

“It’s not your fault!”

“Come here.”

Ayre took another shuddering breath and leaned into his brother’s strong embrace.

“Now go,” murmured his brother a moment later; he placed a swift kiss on top of his head and stepped back. “Continue with your training.”

Ayre inclined his head. “Thank you, Phi.” He began to walk in the direction of the nearest training pavilion when an elongated shadow fell across his path.

“Surely he should be punished for the disgrace that he brought upon the royal clan,” said a cold voice both brothers hated. “As a matter of fact, you should be punished for that unseemly display as well.”

May book reads + reviews

“Three Meant To Be” by MN Bennet

I was really intrigued by the premise of this book and impressed with the complexity of its magic system with all its different magic branches and root magics and their variations and stuff. In fact, sometimes I found it almost too difficult to follow and I was as frustrated as Mr Frost’s first-year students were so often frustrated with him that there were so many things to keep in mind! But, like I said, I was really impressed! I’m sure I’ll get a better hang of it if I go on to the second book, but I’m still on the fence whether I want to plunge deeper into the series or not, because of the main character’s dour personality. I just found it too difficult to handle his constantly depressive mode, because right now my nervous system needs something a little bit more upbeat than what Dorian Frost can offer me. If only the second book was written in Milo’s POV! Naturally, Enchanter Evergreen has enchanted me (especially in contrast with his almost reluctant and permanently moody lover) and I’d love to see more of him. However, I had a peek into the next book and it seems to promise even more depression than the first. On the other hand, I’d love to see how Mr Frost’s students get on next term (especially Caleb, Kenzo, and both Gaels, who have become my favourites).

“Southern Fried Wiccan” by S.P. Sipal

I’m ashamed to say that I have completely forgotten that I have this book. But I have this bookish problem that some of you might be familiar with: I tend to download and buy lots of books on a daily basis – hoard them like treasure and yet not read. However, as it is my plan to read as many books as I can this year, starting with the ones that have been waiting for their chance for a long time, I went back to see what books I have been neglecting and came across several written by my fellow authors. I know S.P. Sipal from our Harry Potter days. (Merlin’s beard, I miss those days!) I’ve read her excellent and extremely helpful “A Writer’s Guide to Harry Potter”“A Writer’s Guide to Harry Potter” that I would recommend to any budding writer out there looking for writing advice that works and now I’ve read her “Southern Fried Wiccan”, which I really enjoyed. Light-hearted and humorous, it kept me turning pages until the very end. I was actually planning to work on my own novel today, but instead I spent half of my morning in bed reading. I was drawn into this sweet and quaint small-town atmosphere with all these different characters, each standing out in their own way. This book also touched upon some very important questions connected with faith, spirituality, religion, self-identity, choices, stereotypes, and preconceptions. I have even copied down several quotes that I’m going to discuss with my students during our Speaking Club. I can’t say that I personally identified with any of the characters but it was very intriguing to have a glimpse into an entirely different life and my attention and interest were fully engaged throughout the book.

“Snow Boys” by Simon Doyle

This was such a sweet yet poignant story. So heartfelt! Naturally, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I loved the author’s sense of humour and I loved the main characters, Dean and Ben. I loved that we got chapters from each boy’s point of view, which allowed us a good look into their lives, what they were thinking, feeling, going through, and it made observing the development of their feelings for each other so much more interesting. I loved reading about their interaction with each other and those sweet moments that they shared. However, my heart ached for poor Ben each time I read chapters from his point of view. I must confess that I didn’t expect such heavy family drama or what it would come to in the end. I was quite shocked. I just wanted to take Ben away and keep him safe and away from his horrible parents who seemed to have forgotten that they even had a child, which was such a contrast to Dean’s parents. Good thing that Ben had Dean to take his mind off things. I also liked Dean’s best friends, Tony and Ashley, and Ben’s best friend, Erin. Another thing that I greatly enjoyed was reading a book set in Ireland rather than in America, which provided me with some eye-opening discoveries. Of course, I must admit that I don’t know much about Ireland, so it wasn’t all that difficult. Unfortunately, intolerance and bullying that we witnessed on the pages of the book seem to be the same no matter what country the story takes place in.

“Thorfinn and the Witch’s Curse” by Jay Veloso Batista

A slow-paced, immersive, and atmospheric story that takes place in the days of yore. The author gives a very detailed description of the lifestyle, culture, religion, superstitions, and traditions of Norsemen (Danes and Vikings) who settled on the territory of what later became England in the area that was referred to as Danelaw. I happen to know something about it from my foray into “The Last Kingdom” series of books last year, which made it easy for me to understand a lot of the specific vocabulary used in the book, which made it sound quite authentic. There are some very distinctive characters like Yeru and Karl that make an instant impression, though for a while it wasn’t clear to me why so much of the story was dedicated to them, when it was supposed to be about Finn. I assumed that Finn or Thorfinn Agneson (his full name, though, by no means, his real name) was the main character because of his name in the title of the book and I was impatient for his story to begin. But just like famed skalds of those bygone days the author of the book generously libated us with stories of the past before returning to the present with befitting theatricality. Finn’s own adventure begins after an ill-fated trip to an old witch’s place alongside his elder brothers during which one of them gets cursed. Finn and the other brother return to that horrible place at night in order to kill the witch and save the brother from her curse. However, they soon learn that it is not easy to kill someone barely corporeal. While chasing the witch, Finn ends up in the Realm Between Realms, where he meets another intriguing character by the name of Ragacheep Nanawan or Raga as he tells Finn to call him, who can turn into a raven and who becomes Finn’s guide through the perils and the mysteries that await him now that his body (lich) and spirit (hug) are split between two worlds. I can’t really say much about Finn as a character. Despite the fact that he is a titular character, his own story appears rather sparingly on the pages of the novel, lost among many other tales and events, and he has remained largely a blank slate throughout the book. However, as it is only the first book in the series, I hope that he is yet to show himself. While I found the title of the book misleading and therefore not delivering the adventure that I was expecting, it is a very engaging novel with a great number of interesting characters, richly embroidered narrative, exciting adventures, and heart-warming atmosphere with a promise of more to come.

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Beatrix Bond did not set out to capture Leopold McBride’s heart and yet that is precisely what she did. But will their mutual affection be enough to conquer many an obstacle on their path to felicity? 

BRIGHTMORE BONDS is a humour-filled romantic novel written in the best traditions of Jane Austen’s school of sarcasm and romance that combines a heavy dose of irony, ridicule, and brutal social commentary. 

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BRIGHTMORE BONDS

A Regency Romance with sass and scandal:

Leopold McBride is quite happy to marry the young lady his parents have chosen for him – until he meets and falls in love with the last woman he should think of. Beatrix Bond is penniless and is the daughter of the woman his father detests. But her passionate nature and eccentric ways are irresistible and Leopold finds himself drawn into her life of near penury and chaos in an old cottage on a cliff.

When his parents learn of the affair, Leopold is faced with disinheritance and is sent off to London, while Miss Bond is forced to take the post at a local school to support her family through difficult times. But her rival for Leopold’s affections sets out to take away her only means of making her living as well as completely destroying her reputation in the eyes of the local society.

Having lost her position, Beatrix is invited to accompany one of the local ladies to London, which means for her a chance to see Leopold again. But what happens in London will either bring them together or force them further apart as dark clouds of suspicion and scandal gather above their heads, threatening the destruction of all their dearest hopes and wishes.

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April book picks

 “Lord of Eternal Night” by Ben Alderson

Well, that was horrible! Everyone knows that it’s extremely difficult to pull off the 1st POV and not to sound like a complete idiot. My first impression of Jak was that he was extremely arrogant. My second impression was that he was extremely stupid. It didn’t make for a good combination nor did it provide me with much hope for the rest of the book. I hate reading books with unintelligent main characters (or where the main character’s stupidity is used as a plot device) and the 1st POV the author chose to use made these unflattering qualities even more pronounced. I instantly felt much more sympathetic towards the creature Jak was supposed to kill and I hoped that he would fail. It would certainly knock him down a peg or two. And, in any case, that mysterious creature sounded much more intriguing than a stupid boy, because following a blundering Jak around was no fun at all. “The man… creature, infuriated me. Disgusted me.” I felt the same way but about Jak. I found him a deeply unpleasant character that didn’t inspire my sympathy and made me root for Marius instead. I expected that they would eventually end up together and I hated the thought. I believed that Marius deserved someone more intelligent. I don’t want to say more about this book – this pretentious and horny but ultimately boring retelling of “Beauty and the Beast”. It was a complete waste of my time. 

“The Vampire Lestat” by Anne Rice

I am convinced that this book wasn’t written – it was composed. Its language is a symphony. It was music to my ears – literally – each word a perfect note. This is how books are supposed to be written! This is how they should sound! It’s perfect. It was heaven after my previous selection and I took pleasure in every sentence that I read and absorbed not only with my eyes but with my very soul. Here is a book with a substance! I haven’t finished it this month, because my April reading plans have been completely derailed, but, to tell you the truth, I’m not in a hurry to finish it. I’m taking so much pleasure from reading it that I’m trying to prolong the experience for as long as possible. Lestat has always been my favourite vampire. In fact, he has been the only vampire I allowed to exist, because generally I don’t like vampires (to put it mildly). I could never understand this global fascination with them and I never fell victim to their dubious charms and even more dubious books written about them that garnered so much obsessive and adoring fans. That being said, last year I encountered another vampire that I actually liked a lot: Mick St John – a vampire detective – from an oldish obscure TV show “Moonlight” played by Alex O’Loughlin (who also played Steve McGarrett in “Hawaii 5-0”).  The show was cancelled after an aborted first season, which is a pity, because it was a really good show and one that would have probably had a longer screen life if only it appeared a few years later during “Twilight” frenzy. Anyway, Lestat has been my favourite vampire ever since I watched the film “Interview with the Vampire” and fell in love with his bitchy catty self. A whole book about his becoming a vampire is pure heaven (if anything about vampires can be pure).

“The Sunshine Court” by Nora Sakavic

I have already written about my complete obsession with the “All For The Game” series a few posts before. I don’t know why I waited so many years to read the first three books in the series, but once I started, there was no going back. I have been listening to it on repeat as an audiobook ever since. I love my Foxes, their coach, and their nurse. I love their problematic and complicated characters and relationships and their gradually becoming a real team and family. While reading about Neil’s story as a Fox, I was also intrigued by the character of Jean Moreau, who appeared as Riko Moriyama’s sidekick. At least, I thought that he was his sidekick and that he was as vile a person as Riko. But surely no one can be as vile as that piece of shit? Little did I know what Jean’s life was really like in the Nest under Riko’s violent reign and Coach Moriyama’s questionable rule! Naturally, I couldn’t and wouldn’t resist reading a book about Jean at its centre. I absolutely loved it and read it in a little over  a day. Nora creates such a beautifully painful story, where every sentence is a punch to the gut. It was another brutal story – in many ways even more brutal than Neil’s – that showed us the life of the Nest from within – and it wasn’t a pretty picture. Jean’s tortured character and his transition from the Ravens and their single-minded approach to Exy to the Trojans who know how to live like normal human beings and who love to have fun and eat questionable food was as fascinating as it was excruciating to read. Poor Jean! The Trojans will never replace my beloved Foxes but I can’t wait to see what happens next. If there are going to be more books. Well, everyone seems to imply that there will be…

“Mosaic” and “Pathways” by Jeri Taylor

In order to commemorate the completion of my rewatch of “Star Trek: Voyager”, I’ve decided to listen to two audiobooks based on the show and created by one of its many showrunners, because I was curious to see how she envisioned their characters beyond the show and because I consider her point of view as canon. So I’ve listened  to “Mosaic” and “Pathways” by Jeri Taylor. Both reads were enjoyable and eye-opening in many ways and made my farewell with “Star Trek: Voyager” less painful. I also liked that the audiobooks were voiced by the actress who played Captain Kathryn Janeway and the actor who played the EMH (Emergency Medical Hologram).

March book picks

“Glass Houses” by Rachel Caine (paperback)

I don’t really know whether I liked the first book in “The Morganville Vampires” series or not – or should I say how much I liked it. It certainly kept my interest and my adrenaline level up, and maybe that’s the problem: I prefer a healthy balance between bad and good, good and bad, but Claire and her friends didn’t have a moment’s peace. I don’t mind problematic characters and violence in books – heck, one of my all-time favourite series is “All For The Game” by Nora Sakavic – but constant violence aimed at Claire by Monica and her cohorts simply baffled me. I just kept wondering why as it kept escalating, without any reason other than to wish to hurt and even kill Claire. There wasn’t any comprehensible reason to justify such level of viciousness and violence. And then I realised that maybe there doesn’t need to be any normal reason for a deranged person to attack a non-deranged person? After all, isn’t that exactly what happened when my country was attacked by a neighbouring country? They do it because they want to, because they can, and because they know that no one will stop them. I guess I want books that I read to provide some hope when real life doesn’t. Still, I grew quite fond of Claire, Eve, Shane, and Michael, and if I come across any more books in the series, I’ll definitely buy them. I also really liked Amelie, whereas Oliver turned out to be a complete disappointment. By the way, I was shocked to learn that the author of the books had passed. I’m pretty sure that I bought my copy when she was still alive and the knowledge that she is no more hit me hard. She left behind a legacy of more than 50 books and I hope that people will continue to discover and read them.

“The Ice Mage” by Julianne Munich (ebook)

I took up this novel expecting to find a magical adventure yet all I found was growing frustration with the novel’s language, logic, plot, and characters. The language was very wobbly: I had a feeling that the author couldn’t quite decide whether to stick to more old-fashioned language that would suit the selected historical time period or whether to pepper its pages with modern-day expressions and notions – and simply used both, creating a rather uneven effect. I kept wondering if people of that time period would be familiar with such notions as ‘coma’ and ‘closure’. Worse still were the dialogues: awkward, forced, and generally unnatural. The characters sounded like wound-up dolls rather than people. Speaking of the characters, most of the things they did were so idiotic it was painfully obvious that they would achieve the opposite result to what they actually expected to achieve. Was that supposed to be a plot device to help move the story along? A very questionable technique then, as it made the characters look stupid and incapable of anything sensible. Also, if you set your story in a historical time period, your characters cannot have the same attitudes as modern people (e.g.: beauty standards) – unless you’re writing a time-travelling novel, of course. Otherwise you’re just playing dress-up. However, I wanted to commend the author on providing some authenticity in terms of personal hygiene (dressing, undressing, even going to the toilet – it nicely recreated the atmosphere of the time where dialogues failed to convey it), but the relationship between the aristocracy and their employees was completely unrealistic. I have been extensively studying everything connected with the French court during the reign of Louis XIV for a while now and I found the depiction of court-related things in this book utterly unbelievable. I believe that even when writing fantasy we should operate within certain parameters of knowledge and understanding. Also, I’ve noticed that the female characters appeared to be all-knowing in this book, while the male characters were generally slow and clueless. I actually found Marcel and Adelaide quite likeable at first, but after that interminable carriage ride without a single conversation of substance between the two of them, they began to seriously annoy me. They only grew more tiresome once the carriage ride came to an end. All in all, a very silly book with ridiculous characters, and an extremely forced plot.